


Autumn | Jacob Frye X Reader

by GaunterODimm



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Ismay more like Brute Ismay, Dubious Consent, F/M, Historical Accuracy, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, JACOB IS NOT JACK AND READER IS NOT ROSE, Maybe a smut, Not sure though, Of course no slow burn the ship will sink in less than 4 days and that is in fact no spoiler, Ok bye, Reader is the daughter of John Astor, Secret Relationship, Sort Of, Swearing, Thomas Andrews is a cinnamon bun, Titanic - Freeform, Titanic sank over 100 years ago so how is it a spoiler, Undercover Missions, Wikipedia is my main source huzzah, assassinations, i think, no slow burn, shittyflutes My Heart Will Go On, the unsinkable Molly Brown
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-06-28 10:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15705684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaunterODimm/pseuds/GaunterODimm
Summary: Your fiancé treats you to join him on the maiden voyage of the ship of dreams.Meanwhile, a certain undercover third class passenger has been given the task to assassinate him.~Based on: Titanic : a new musical, and James Cameron's Titanic (1997).~Disclaimer: I will try to keep this story as historically accurate as possible. However any incorrect statements are not unlikely, sorry for that.





	1. Overture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before reading this story, I suggest you watch this show reel to get into the mood a bit. The team of Honor & Glory deserve much, much love! 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gpc1XMupQ5I&t=183s

**APRIL 10TH, 1912 | LOCATION - LONDON TRAIN STATION | LOCAL TIME - 05:59am | POV - JACOB**

'Remember what I said, stick to the mission and all will be well.' 

The younger Frye Twin paid no attention to George Westhouse, instead being intrigued by the paper that was in his hands. 'Evie, are we  _really_ going to be on this... Enormous thing?'

Evie Frye rolled her eyes, shaking her head in dismay. 'You might want to listen to George, Jacob. Otherwise, things could not end well. It is going to be a very small space and trust me, it will not be difficult to hunt down a bloke like you among a few hundred, if you were to be caught.' 

A scoff was heard from the relentless assassin before he sighed in annoyance. 'But Evie, look at it!'   
  
'She is pretty, yes, beautiful even. But this will not be a cozy family vacation! We must not get carried away with any luxury that is to be found on board of that ship.'

A shrill whistle indicated the approaching departure. George cleared his throat, folding his hands on his back. 'So, you know what you must do. If in need, seek out Duleep Singh, he will be undercover as a first class passenger, given his status and all.'

'Why must we be going third class again?' Jacob asked, earning a glare from Evie and a shrug from Mr Westhouse, the train slowly starting to move.   
  
'Fare thee well, landstriders!' George mumbled while lifting his hand as a greeting. 'May the gods of the sea be merciful on you.'

Jacob retreated to the train carriage they would sit in for the next three-and-a-half hours, plopping down on one of the benches. The room was not too busy, yet the air smelled stale. This was way different than their own hideout, but they had to travel by public transport today to head for Southampton, and to top it all off they had to travel third class, what Jacob didn't really mind if it weren't for his paycheck allowing him to pay for first-class tickets for both on the ride  _and_ the boat trip, but Evie and he simply had to stay discreet.

The elite of this age had built quite the name for themselves, and if the Templar Grand Master knew of their presence, he would certainly press charges to get them eliminated, for good, and who knew what would happen on open sea?

Part of George Westhouse's plan to send the twins after Crawford Starrick on board of Titanic was ridiculous, for how could one quietly assassinate a man on such a relatively small area, not that the ship was small but compared to the city of London it certainly was, and remain unnoticed? On the other hand, however, the idea of joining on the maiden voyage of such a legend,  _the ship God Himself couldn't sink,_ as many called her, well, it was not like Jacob was complaining. Besides, it was quite genius for there would be so many men of power, some of them even rumored to be part of the Templar Order besides Master Starrick himself, that could use a blade between their ribs. No, Jacob did not mind the idea of going on a Templar killing spree at all.

He looked up from his thoughts as Evie sat down beside him, flinging one leg over the other, which was difficult because of the skirt that she wore. 'Blasted.' she hissed through gritted teeth, 'I feel so restricted in this, yet we must keep our profile low. I cannot wait to actually wear pants again.' Jacob hummed, staring out of the window. 'I guess you didn't need much of a wardrobe change, hm?' Evie said to her brother, who simply rolled his eyes. 

'Shut your trap, dear sister. This train ride will take hours, I do not wish to spend them listening to your obnoxious twaddling.'

Evie let out a scoff, standing up to sit two rows behind him. Jacob leaned back, stretching his legs before letting himself doze off a bit, watching as the streets of London were no longer in their window.

* * *

 

**APRIL 10TH, 1912 | LOCATION - SOUTHAMPTON HARBOR | LOCAL TIME - 09:34am | POV - YOU**

You were startled awake from your drowsy state as the carriage suddenly came to a halt, the smell of the salt immediately hitting you, and something familiar.

'We are here.' Crawford Starrick muttered, hand resting upon your knee, squeezing it possessively. Although he was wearing gloves, you swore his knuckles must've turned white by how hard he squeezed. You tried your best not to flinch, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. 

'Shall we leave the carriage, then?' You said with a far from amused hint in your voice, turning to face your fiancé. His blue eyes flickered with something you saw every time you tried to somehow disobey the etiquette. Even though your hand had already wrapped around the handle to open the carriage door, Starrick's cold, warning gaze halted you from going any further. God knows what would mark his reputation if anyone saw his wife-to-be jump out of the cart like an excited child. 'Put on your bonnet.'

An annoyed sigh left your lips as you reached for the purple hat that was laying on the bench opposite of you, putting it on top of your carefully done-up hair, where your maids had spent at least an hour on this morning, much to your dismay. As the door swung open, a gust of cold air entered the carriage. A gloved hand appeared in the frame, gesturing you to take it. Crawford gave a small nudge against the small of your back, ushering you to get out.

You took the hand, letting the servant guide you to step onto the ground. As you straightened your back to look up at where you were, you softly gasped at the sight of the hugest, most beautiful ship you've ever seen, and of course, you recognized her from pictures. 'Crawford...'

Said man stood beside you, offering you his arm as a small smile came over his lips. 'I know.' he responded, waiting for you to hook your hand around his elbow. As you did, he guided you over the harbor whilst maids and butlers started to unload your luggage. The scent you had smelt earlier suddenly clicked together with why it was so recognizable to you: the streets of London were filled with the pungent odor of coal being burned, and here, the pipes were spitting soot into the air like there was no tomorrow. 

You couldn't pry your eyes off her: Her curves, radiant contrast between black and white, the breath-taking design, she truly was the ship of dreams as many said. The pictures had not been enough to capture the beauty of this ship, a floating city. 'If you had told me we were going to sail on the Titanic, I wouldn't have complained when you picked me up this morning.' You whispered, earning a small chuckle from Crawford.

'Then it wouldn't be a surprise anymore.'

'Frankly, Crawford, I wouldn't have minded it to be spoiled. I would love to know it beforehand, only if it meant I could brag a little about it.'

'We cannot turn back time now, can we?' Mr Starrick responded to you with a bit of a sneer, which made you wonder why he took your previous statement so seriously.

The arranged wedding that was to be held was coming up soon after this little trip, some time away from London was what you craved for. Another fight with your soon-to-be husband was something you'd love to avoid. You decided not to respond and looked at the ship again instead. 

'When will we be departing?' you spoke softly, eyeing the large crowd that had already gathered around the ship, looking at her beauty with open jaws.

'In a few hours we may board.' Crawford answered whilst gazing at his pocket watch for a moment, straightening his suit as he tucked it back into his vest. 'I would like you to meet some people, if you please.' 

You had no time to speak up before Starrick pulled you with him, although you were still clinging to his arm so no one saw you almost lose your footing, and your step almost faltered before regaining balance. You obeyed the man beside you, wishing him to just slow down, for walking so quickly on heels was far from easy, but he suddenly halted in his tracks and once more you nearly toppled over.   
  
'Gentlemen.' your fiancé spoke, gaining the attention of three bickering men. 'I would like to introduce you to someone.'   
  
'She is familiar to us, Mr Starrick sir. (Y/n) Astor, daughter of the great John Jacob Astor. Her appearance is as beautiful as on the pictures.' a man with salt-and-peppery hair spoke. You blushed and slightly bowed your head in a greeting.  
'And if I recall correctly from _your_ pictures, you must be Mr Thomas Andrews, the architect of this gorgeous ship.'   
'Guilty as charged.' he flashed you a charming smile before taking your hand, kissing the back of it lightly.

Crawford cleared his throat, that same possessive hand wrapping around you again, resting on your hip this time, pulling you closer to his side.   
'May I introduce my companions to thee, miss. Edward John Smith, captain, and Joseph Bruce Ismay, managing director of the White Star Line.'  
  
A man with a white beard smiled kindly at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did, kissing the back of my hand as well. 'I am honored to make your acquaintance, miss Astor.'

The final man of the three, Mr Ismay, was quick to kiss my hand, bowing slightly. His appearance was similar to Crawford's, with a large, dark moustache under his nose. 'Lovely to finally meet the woman our dear friend Crawford Starrick cannot shut up about!' he said with a roar in his laughter, patting the shoulder of Starrick roughly yet in a friendly manner. He got an angry glare from the Grand Master, but that left him unfazed. I was sure that he and the odd leader of the Blighters, Maxwell Roth, would get along splendidly; if it only weren't for the reckless madman to be eating dirt for months now.

 

'We will be joining you this evening for dinner, Mr Starrick.' Ismay spoke, folding his hands on his back. 'I trust that you are aware of some... Respectable guests will board this evening?' His eyes lingered upon me for a moment, which I did not quite understand why he was looking at me at the mention of  _respectable guests_ , as if we were both aware of certain people that would embark later tonight. 

'Ah yes, Mr Ismay, we are informed.' Crawford responded, squeezing my side. 

' _We?'_ I whispered in his ear, leaning closer. Crawford pressed his lips to my cheek for a moment to make it look like an intimate moment between the two of us. ' _Who will be joining, Crawford?'_  
  
'I think you know.' he whispered back, a fake smile plastered to his face as he pulled back, his thumb caressing my cheek. 'You are such an admirable lady, my dearest (Y/n).' he spoke, earning a small smile from the men in front of him, except for Mr Andrews, who had an odd look in his gaze as if he was observing me closely. 

'Well, we still have some business to discuss Master Starrick, so if we could be excused?' Edward Smith spoke, shaking my fiancé's hand. Crawford nodded, pressing his lips into a tight line. 'Of course, gentlemen. I trust it is far more important than whatever turn this conversation will take. We will see you tonight in the grand salon.' 

With that, the three men retreated from their position at the dock, leaving us behind to gaze at the ship once more.

'Who is coming tonight, Crawford?' I asked again, a bit firmer this time. The glare I received from the Grand Master was far from pleased.   
  
'Stop acting dumb, (Y/n). You know just well who will be boarding,  _miss Astor_.' 

I swallowed as I realized who would be tagging along on the maiden voyage of the Titanic.  _Of course. Why would he miss out on such an opportunity?_ _He will be the richest fucking man on board._  'Right.' 

The hands on Crawford's pocket watch had only shifted fifteen minutes; This morning was going to be long.

* * *

 

**APRIL 10TH, 1912 | LOCATION - SOUTHAMPTON HARBOR | LOCAL TIME - 11:03am | POV - JACOB**

'Have you seen my playing cards?' Jacob sat rather bored on top of one of the crates that was located at the docks, patting the pockets of his grey, washed-down coat. Evie rolled her eyes, shaking her head. 'Can you for once just appreciate whatever is in front of you, Jacob? Look at that beauty! Besides, we must look if we can catch a glimpse of the first class around here, spot eventual Templars and maybe even our dear Master Starrick himself.'

The younger twin let out a huff and crossed his arms, gazing around the harbor to see if he could find anything of the essence.

'See that man over there?' Evie nudged towards a rather wealthy looking, slightly greying man, who had a rather young looking girl on his arm. 'Mister Benjamin Guggenheim alongside his mistress Léontine Aubart.'  
'And his wife is fine with that?'  
'His wife is sitting back at home in Pennsylvania. Man's filthy rich, men like this are known to have mistresses.'  
'How do you know all that, Evie?'  
'Well, unlike you, I have actually done my research.'

Jacob frowned at the sight; It seemed definitely odd that such a young lady would attach herself to the arm of a man twice her age, but the people that were having a conversation with Mr Guggeheim didn't seem to mind.  
'What about that lovely couple?' he spoke as he saw two rather wealthy looking elderly gazing fondly at each other. Evie smiled, taking a small notebook from her inner pocket.  
  
'George has informed me some more on the important, more famous passengers who're boarding. Those are Sir Isidor and Ida Straus, married happily for over forty years. He used to be a member of the House of Representatives, and not unimportant, he is co-proprietor of Macy's Warehouse in New York City.' 

Suddenly, his eye fell upon a rather familiar man standing close to the first class gangway, the Templar cross displayed on the band on his bicep. 'I think I found our favorite Templar. And what do you know? He happens to have a mistress as well.' 

Evie's eyes narrowed as her gaze fell onto you before looking at the notes again. 'Well, that's quite odd. George would've mentioned it if Crawford Starrick had a lady with him. Something to look into, perhaps. Also, I have not seen the Maharajah yet, he must be running late.'

Jacob let a sigh slip past his lips, attention still fixated on that rather pretty woman next to Starrick. Oh, who was he kidding, you were absolutely gorgeous. However, it wasn't unlikely your intentions were any different than Madame Aubart's; you were probably sticking around the man for his money. Jacob simply had to find out who you were exactly: it was of the essence that he knew your relationship to Master Starrick before he could act out any attempts on said man's life.

All of a sudden, the sound of a crier shouting instructions through a metal funnel startled the crowd, causing them to look up.

_'ATTENTION THIRD CLASS PASSENGERS, YOU ARE EXPECTED TO BOARD THROUGH THE BACK GANGWAY. KEEP YOUR PAPERS IN HAND AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS.'_

Evie stood up, dusting down her skirt, that was a dark grey shade. 'Well, that seems like our cue.' They both took their suitcases, moving towards the back of the ship, where the third class passengers were to be located.

* * *

 

**APRIL 10TH, 1912 | LOCATION - SOUTHAMPTON HARBOR | LOCAL TIME - 11:47 am | POV - YOU**

Once the third and second class had boarded the ship, the first class soon followed.

The climb up the gangway was quite difficult to do with a pair of heels on, but you managed to get on nevertheless. Crawford took your arm as soon as you had regained your footing upon the rich, wooden planks of the hall. 'Come.' he ushered, and so you went. 

The main salon was stunning. A huge, spacious place where a staircase was located that reached out several decks, and above, a glass dome that scattered the bright rays of the sun into a million shimmers and made the light cast upon the carefully carved woodwork perfectly. 'Crawford.' you muttered in awe, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the actual beauty you were witnessing.

'I know.' was all the Grand Master said before turning to the maids, telling the suite number where your luggage was to be deposited. They nodded quietly before walking off, leaving you behind with your fiancé. 'Let's head upstairs.' he said, guiding you towards the elevators.

The wind was gripping at your skirt as soon as you stepped outside the ship onto the main promenade, causing you to clutch onto them heavily. Master Starrick held your hand, guiding you with him to the railing. You just hoped the breeze would die down so you wouldn't have to fear it picking up your bonnet and hurling it into the sea. 

Hundreds, no, thousands of people were waving at the ship, which had already started to cast off. You inhaled deeply, salt slightly prickling in your nose. You did not mind; for once the air felt clean enough to breathe in deeply, even though the pipes were perspiring soot, it felt great. It had been long since you had felt so free, yet so restricted as you felt Crawfords hand wrap around yours, that was resting on the woorden bar of the railing. 

'Look at them. All waving like madmen. Like they're never going to see each other again.' Crawford muttered, shaking his head. We were fully loose from the harbor now and it was immediately to be felt, the surface we were standing on suddenly way less solid-like than before. 'Let us head inside. We must look at our suite and unpack our belongings.'

'If it is alright with you, I will stay here a bit longer.' you got a slightly disappointed hum from Starrick, but he left you behind nevertheless. Around, you, people began to head inside as Southampton became smaller and smaller at the horizon. Drawing a deep breath once more, you closed your eyes, softly exhaling into the salty sky. 


	2. Undesired Meetings

**APRIL 10TH, 1912 | LOCATION - **LA MANCHE, OR THE ENGLISH CHANNEL** | LOCAL TIME - 12:21pm | POV - JACOB**

'Evie? E-vie!' Jacob's voice sounded through the narrow hallways of the third class huts, yet it seemed to be completely drowned out by the crowd, stomping around the cramped room there was, making it nearly impossible to move. Somehow amidst the commotion of people trying to find their ascribed cabin, the younger twin had managed to lose his sister; activating his eagle vision seemed of no use.

The slip of paper in his hand referred to a cabin 2.45, so the man decided to follow instructions for once. After a quarter of an hour of pushing and pulling, he finally reached it, closing the door behind him. Letting a sigh escape him, he took a moment to calm down. 'It is rough out there, innit?' an unfamiliar voice sounded behind him.

Jacob turned around, facing four other men, who seemed to be acquainted with each other. The assassin frowned, gazing at his paper once more. 'Five beds, five of us in this room... Where is my sister sleeping, then?'

'Well, she can warm my bed if she wants to!' one man spat with a smirk plastered on his face, causing his friends to burst out in hollering laughter. Jacob raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to them.

'Al... Right, they must've handed me the wrong piece of paper, excuse me when I go to find my  _real_ hut.'   
'You will do nothing of the sort, mate. They make no mistakes here.'   
A burly looking guy jumped from the top of one of the bunk beds and took the ticket from Jacob's fingers before he could respond.   
'Yeah, see, this is your room.'

Under the onlooking eyes, Jacob placed his suitcase down on a lower bunk bed, a bit uncomfortable by the presence of these people. It seemed that he simply had no choice.

'So... My name is Jacob Frye, and who are you?'  
'William Beauchamp, but call me Will.' the man said, nodding his head in a greeting.   
'Frederick Barrett.' a man of friendlier image spoke, shaking Jacob's hand.  
'And we are John Priest and Ernest Allen. Pleasure to meet you, mister Frye.'

The brunet nodded at the four males, standing up, nearly bumping his head against the bed above him. 'Well, it has been a very quick meeting, I need to leave now so I can find my sister.

As Jacob exited the room, Will called after him. 'When you find her, my offer still stands!'

* * *

 

**APRIL 10TH, 1912 | LOCATION - LA MANCHE, OR THE ENGLISH CHANNEL | LOCAL TIME - 12:23am | POV - EVIE**

Evie set down her things on the top bunk of a bed. She was the first person to arrive in her hut. Wondering where Jacob could be, she looked around the room. It was small, no windows, just a single light bulb dangling from the ceiling to light up the environment. There was a single closet, life vests laying on top. The older twin narrowed her eyes, her freckled nose crinkling a bit at the thought that this tiny space was even more luxurious than what most people were living in today.

Suddenly, the door opened and three giggling girls walked in. They were obviously delighted of this trip, as if they were walking on clouds they plopped down on their beds. A girl with red curls was the first to notice Evie. 'Hello there!' 

Evie smiled and nodded in a greeting. 'Hello. I'm Evie.'  
  
The three girls laughed a bit, causing Evie to frown. 'What is so funny about that?'   
  
'Nothing,' a girl with dark hair responded. 'But the three of us, we don't even know each other, but we do all carry the same name!' This made the trio burst out into laughter. 

'I am Kate Murphy.' the dark haired girl said.   
'My name is Kate Mullins.' A girl with a blonde braid spoke, 'And I am Kate McGowan.' 

'Even your surnames start with the same letter.' Evie said, amused. The three Kate's thought for a bit before smiling. 'Ah, we hadn't noticed that yet. What an odd coincidence!'

Evie arose from her sitting position, putting a hand on her hip. 'Listen, have you perchance seen a man in rather ragged clothes, brown hair, about my age and height, bit taller though, stubble upon his chin?' 

'Sorry dear but we haven't seen your beloved. It is too crowded out there. Seen plenty men with those features.'

'He is not my beloved.' Evie spoke with a hint of disgust in her voice, 'my brother. Twin brother.'

'If he is as cute as you,' Kate Mullins spoke with a smile, 'I will gladly help you search.'

Evie blushed for a second. 'Thank you.'  
'I love your freckles!'   
'Stop it, now.' Evie said with a small blush before she and Kate Mullins went out the door. 

'So, what brings you to the Titanic?' Kate asked as they strode down the hall, which had calmed down slightly. At least, they could have a normal conversation as they turned the corner.   
'Business.'   
'That's... Well... Unspecific.'  
The assassin hummed. 'My brother and I need to visit some family in America. Our father died, so we have no one here back at the UK.'  
Kate made a sound, 'I am sorry for your loss.'  
'Thank you.' Evie whispered, noticing a familiar form moving towards them.

'Jacob!' Evie cheered, a bit surprised by how relieved her voice sounded.   
'Oh look who we have there, my sweet sister!'   
'Where is your room?' Jacob pointed somewhere behind him.

'Who is this then?' The younger twin nodded towards Katie.  
'I am Kate, Kate Mullins.' She held out her hand for him to shake.  
'Jacob Frye.' Jacob responded, shaking it firmly. 'Taking care of my sister I presume?'

Kate Mullins giggled and nodded. 'She is very kind.'  
Jacob frowned, grinning at Evie. 'Kind you say? That's new.'

Evie rolled her eyes. 'Well, in what bunk do you sleep then?'   
'I sleep in a hut with four other men, they look a little rugged and filthy though.'  
'You will fit right in.' Evie sneered, silencing Jacob immediately. 'All my roommates are named Kate, which is... A rather strange coincidence.'   
Evie turned to Kate Mullins, smiling. 'Could you please excuse us for a minute?' Katie nodded. 'Of course. See you around, Mr Frye.' she gave him a sweet smile, causing Jacob to frown.

The older twin pulled her brother to a quieter spot, lowering the volume of her voice to a whisper.   
'So, we need a solid plan. We should try to find Mr Singh as soon as possible so we know where to look. We have our assassin attire in our suitcases, so don't open it when others are nearby.'  
'When and where will we meet?'  
'Midnight at the staircase. We can sneak upstairs, when everyone is drunk. Singh could tell us more about the unknown lady Starrick was with, and maybe more.' Evie muttered. 'I have also packed our formal clothes, something  _you_ haven't thought about.'

  
Jacob nodded, smirking. 'Never thought that you would be voluntary putting on that red dress again, dear sister.'  
Evie sighed, rolling her eyes. 'We will blend right in, and therefore I will put it on. Now hurry, and try to wash up. You stink.'

* * *

**APRIL 10TH, 1912 | LOCATION - CHERBOURG | LOCAL TIME - 05:52pm | POV - YOU**

An all too familiar voice filled your ears, one that you did not wish to hear, and you cringed at the sound, not able to ignore it any longer.  
You put down your fork, arising from your seat and putting on your best fake smile. 

'My dear (Y/n)!' your father hugged you tight, defying all kinds of etiquette at that moment.  
It had been almost a year since your last meetup.   
'Father!' You tried to sound cheerful, but your expression fell as you saw  _her_. 

Madeleine Astor, your father's new wife, whom he had married at the time you last met. After the wedding, you didn't wish to see them anytime soon. Her bump was growing. Five months and counting, and it made you sick to the stomach. All due to the fact that said girl was a year younger than you. If you compared the age gap between your father and Madeleine to you and Crawford Starrick, yours wasn't even worth mentioning.

'So, the baby is getting quite large I see.' you said to Madeleine after your father released you, suddenly going all formal again, letting her hook her hand around his arm.  
'Yes, it is growing just right.' Madeleine said, smiling.   
'You know the gender already?' you asked with played interest.  
'Not yet, (Y/n).' your father answered, putting a hand on her stomach.  
Crawford appeared next to you, smiling as you looked at him. 'Marvelous, isn't it? I can not wait until I have an heir.'

You smiled wryly, nodding. 'One day, Crawford.'  
'I wanted you to meet someone, (Y/n).' Crawford said, gesturing behind him. 'This is Maharajah Duleep Singh. He originates from India, yet he wouldn't miss out on this trip.'

You bowed in a greeting at the Indian man in front of you, who took your hand and kissed it. 'A pleasure to meet you, milady...'  
'(Y/n). (Y/n) Astor.'  
'Duleep, she is my fiancée. We are to be wed after this boat trip, somewhere in New York preferably, with the Templar council as our witness, the ever mighty eye of the General of the Cross.'  
'I am glad to learn of your betrothal, Mr Starrick, Miss Astor.'   
'I think we should do some more business soon, Mr Singh, concerning the tea trade.'  
'Of course, Mr Starrick.' the Maharajah slightly bowed.   
_Why,_ you pondered,  _does this man have so much respect for a Templar Grand Master? I figured he was on the royal side of London._

'Shall we proceed to have dinner?' Crawford urged, slipping his arm around the small of your back and walked towards the grand salon. The two of you found your table over at Edward John Smith. With Crawford being such an important person, you were among the captain's most honorable guests, and thus invited to sit with him during dinner.

Thomas Andrews greeted you with a curtsy and a warm smile, pulling your chair out for you. 'Miss Astor, I trust you met with your father alright?'  
You nodded at him, causing him to hum. 'That is great to hear.' He sat down next to you, Crawford on your other side.

The table was packed with all kinds of cutlery, waiters already waltzing around the room with full platters of food. The smell was amazing; You realized that you hadn't eaten since morning.   
Crawford carefully instructed the garçons of what you were allowed to eat and what not.  
No meat, no garlic, it was all quite difficult to keep up with, and it annoyed you till no end, for you were fully aware of what you wanted to eat. Your fiancé however did not agree with your choices.

Once everyone had their desired meal, except you, you were munching on a heap of greens and some boiled potatoes alongside a piece of salmon, the ambiance in the room became a bit more free as alcohol was poured with large amounts. A violin sounded through the room and you tried to remember the name of the musician; Mr Hartley if you recalled correctly and you had heard about his skill. You really tried to enjoy the music, but the food was not to your liking, nor was the fact that the voice of both your father and Mr Guggenheim became more slurred with the minute. Crawford however held himself back from drinking too much, wanting to stay alert and true to his image; intoxication would not fit a proper profile. 

'Are you enjoying your meal?' Mr Andrews asked you with a look of concern.  
'Is it that obvious?' you bitterly whispered just loud enough for him to hear.   
'If I may, I would like to bring you on a walk across the promenade. Some fresh air will do you good.'

That piqued your interest, causing you to nod in agreement. 'I would love that.'  
  
'Master Starrick sir,' Thomas Andrews caught your fiancés attention, 'Would it be alright with you if I took your lovely woman on a walk outside? That leaves more room for you to do some business while on board.' 

Crawford seemed keen on getting rid of you for a moment, for he didn't hesitate one second to agree; Usually he was very suspicious whenever another man wanted to do an activity with you, but now he clearly did not mind at all: he wanted some alone time with your father to discuss things concerning the marriage.  
  
You took Mr Andrews outstretched arm and strode with him towards the main promenade deck, walking across the railing in silence.   
'How are you enjoying the trip so far?' he asked.  
'It is nice, the ship is truly marvelous. But those dinners...' you pondered for a second before continuing, 'Not really my thing. Crawf... Master Starrick does apply very strict rules when it comes to my diet. I need to stay in shape, eat no fatty foods and such...' 

'Do you feel restricted when you are with your husband?'  
Your head whipped up at his question.  
'How inappropriate to ask, Mr Andrews.' you said with flushed cheeks.   
'Please, just call me Thomas. And something in your expression just told me you do.'  
  
You were silent for a moment, inhaling the salty air before sighing.   
'I am craving for a sorbet, or at least something with cream on top.'   
Thomas chuckled, shaking his head. 'Well, then we will just get you some ice cream.'

It took you a moment to process what he was saying. 'You are laughing at me, are you not?'  
'No.' Mr Andrews spoke with a small smile on his face, 'I totally get that you can get fed up with etiquette and formal events. I have those moments too.'

You narrowed your eyes, halting in your tracks. 'Do you have someone? At home, I mean.' A second too late you realized how weird that sounded. 'I-It is not that I mean that I... It is just... You are being so kind to me. Such a gentleman. A lot of first class passengers can learn from your manners.' 

Mr Andrews hummed, smiling at you. 'I have a wife and a daughter. She recently turned two years old.'   
  
You opened your mouth to respond that you were happy for him, but some noise on the other side of the promenade caused you to stop speaking. It seemed to come from the third class deck. There was music and laughter. Mr Andrews couldn't stop you from rushing towards the railing. A deck down, out of your reach, there was a party going on. Beers and food was being served in large amounts and it made your mouth water. Happy music sounded over the cheering. Thomas stood next to you, looking down at the crowd. 'They seem to be having more fun than me.' you confessed.

'Come, Miss Starrick, let us head back to the grand salon.'

'I want to stay a little longer.' you begged. 'Please.'   
  
Mr Andrews gave you a look; he didn't want to get in trouble with your soon-to-be husband.

'The first class offers a ball soon. It is more fit for people of your reputation.'

He was right, what would happen if you were to be spotted among a godforsaken crowd, dress drenched with alcohol and reeking of sweat? Your father would most certainly disown you and Crawford would blow off the marriage. That wouldn't be that bad... Except the fact that you would lose  _everything_ you had.

'Right.' you straightened your dress with your hands, taking Thomas' arm before heading for the grand salon again.

 


	3. The Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listen while reading for an immersive experience:
> 
> https://youtu.be/RK3p4UG792k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note : Corrected a mistake in previous chapter on Madeleine Astor's pregnancy.

**APRIL 10TH, 1912 | LOCATION - THE GRAND STAIRCASE | LOCAL TIME - 11:59pm | POV - JACOB**

Mr Hartley was a talented man even so that Jacob Frye began to enjoy the tune he was currently playing.   
The younger twin was currently standing at the bottom of the first-class staircase, clad in the neatest clothes he had (still rugged - according to Evie) and a watchful gaze upon the crowd.  
He found himself humming to the song at a certain moment, and quickly stopped as soon as his sister turned up, wearing her red, long dress. 

 

_Autumn_

_Shall we all meet in the Autumn?_

_Golden and glowing by Autumn_

_Shall we still be best of friends?_

_Best of friends..._

 

'Catchy melody.' Evie mused, looking her brother up and down. 'You look like a third-class passenger nevertheless.'   
Jacob rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 'And you look far from comfortable.'   
They stood at the end of the grand staircase, near a wooden statue of a cherub, which was breathtaking to say the least, and scanned the area.

Jacob caught the appearance of Master Starrick instantly. A glass of whiskey was propped in his hand, the ice in it nearly watered down. Next to him, that same lady they had seen that very morning. She wore a navy evening dress. She looked elegant, yet just as uncomfortable as Evie according to her expression. In front of them an older man was chatting up to the couple, a young woman on his arm.   
Mr Astor, Jacob remembered.   
'We must look for Mr Singh,' Evie drew him from his thoughts, 'we had to meet him at the staircase. He could be here any second now, since it is past midnight.'  
'Cannot be hard to miss, right? If the man is looking for us, he might see us soon enough. Judging by how we are all out in the open...' Jacob said, gesturing to the glass sphere on top of the room that gave the most stunning of views from the starry sky. 

'Greetings, friends. Glad I am running into the both of you. Welcome... I trust you are faring well on the ship so far?'  
Evie let out a delighted sound and bowed slightly for the maharajah. 'Of course we are, Mr Singh.'  
'I must speak to you two in private really quick. Follow me.'   
  
Jacob was taken aback by the beauty and wealth that radiated from the richly decorated halls and grand salon, yet it also gave off something else, something that made his stomach turn and anger well up in his chest - arrogance.  
The architect spared no expenses to make sure those high-class snobs were having the best of the best, whilst him and his sister were sleeping in claustrophobic huts between the rats.  
  
They entered a room which Jacob figured to be a study and Mr Singh shut the door behind them, ushering the two to move towards the desk. Much to Evie's delight, a familiar figure stood behind a desk. 'Henry!' she breathed, rushing towards the Indian assassin. 'Evie, my dearest. I do know that you do not like wearing a dress like this, but I must say that your figure looks formidable.'  
'I didn't know you were going to be here!'  
'Neither did I, but I was dragged along last minute. I boarded in Cherbourg this afternoon. I hope you found your suite all-right?'   
Jacob scoffed, rolling his eyes. 'Yes, the room is  _just a bit_ tiny. I mean, isn't it odd how we sleep in cramped rooms whilst the first class are able to bring several suitcases along and  _still_ have room to have an elephant in their suites?'

A pregnant silence filled the room before the maharajah spoke up.  
'I trust you two are well informed on the mission?' Evie nodded. 'We must assassinate Crawford Starrick. On board of this ship he has few places to flee and a limited amount of Templar guards is permitted. However, we do not know a lot about the other passengers on this ship. How many of them are Templars, et cetera.' Mr Singh rubbed his chin, looking thoughtfully at his notes.   
'I am told that a certain John Jacob Astor is a Templar.'   
'Oh, we have heard about him. We saw him speak with Starrick a few minutes ago.' Jacob spoke.

'That can be. His daughter is to be married to the man in question.'  
'Mr Astor's daughter is Starrick's fiancee?' Evie said.  
'The woman in the blue dress.' Jacob mused, remembering how uncomfortable she had looked.

'We have no further information about her. Mainly because it wasn't relevant. However, since she is Starrick's sweetheart since a few months, she is suddenly all the more interesting.' Henry explained.  
'And what can we do about it?' Jacob asked him. Henry smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as they settled on Jacob.   
'You could ask her for a dance. Chat with her a bit. Get on her good side. She is a critical contact within this mission. We don't know anything about her, for all we know she sticks to Starrick's side twenty-four hours a day. We have no idea if she is a Templar or if she could assist us. Thus, you need to get all the information out of her you can.' 

'Are you sure it won't be a better idea that I would have a dance with her?' Evie spoke up before Jacob could even protest.   
Henry shook his head, folding his hands on his back. 'It would be frowned upon in this society. Two women dancing with each other. Besides, I would prefer it if you stayed behind here with Jayadeep.'  
'I can't dance for shit.' Jacob cursed, crossing his arms over his chest.   
'Try something. Let her lead you or something.' Jacob scoffed at Evie's answer.

'Fine. If you stay close, it would be all-right.'

The maharajah gave a firm nod as the twin assassins looked his way. 'I will distract Mr Starrick. I am not too sure if he is fond of the idea of a complete stranger dancing with his beloved. If I can assure him that it won't be a problem, he might give in easier.' 

Jacob dragged his hands over the revers of his coat to wipe out any creases. 'How do I look?'  
Evie snorted and pressed her hand over her mouth before nodding. 'You look... Very classy.' 

The younger twin rolled his eyes before heading towards the grand staircase again, alongside the maharajah.

* * *

 

**APRIL 11TH, 1912 | LOCATION - THE GRAND STAIRCASE | LOCAL TIME - 12:13AM| POV - YOU**

You found yourself standing close to your fiancé, clutched to his arm as you were expected to do, the corset you were wearing making it difficult to breathe.    
Crawford chuckled about something your father said, raising his glass of scotch to his lips, you believe it was his third, and-

\- threw it back in one sip, already beckoning the garçon to bring him a new one. You simply rolled your eyes, rather observing the guests around you instead of paying attention than listening to whatever you father was slurring about - For once you were disappointed that Madeleine was not here, for she would've been your only source of distraction from this mess. In her pregnant state, she was allowed to sleep in early. Not that it was still early, no, but you wanted to be anywhere but here, next to two men that made the hairs of your neck stand on end.

Within the crowd, you managed to notice the maharajah moving towards you, letting your eyes rest on him as he approached you. He gave you a smile, bowing his head in a greeting. You curtsied, causing both Crawford and your father to look up form their conversation. 

'Your royal highness.' you breathed, sending him a kind smile.   
  
'Miss Astor, please, there is no need for such formal talk here. We are in good company, aren't we? Besides, your husband-to-be is a good business partner of mine, so that makes us acquaintances.'  
Mr Singh took your hand and kissed the back of it lightly.   
'Speaking of which, I need to speak to Master Starrick. If you would excuse us, my friend will look after you for a while, if that makes your fiancé feel a bit better about making this lovely evening about business for just a while.'

Just now you took notice of the companion the maharajah had brought - A handsome young man, not much older than you, a light stubble upon his chin and most of all, a charming smile. You felt your heart flutter for a moment before you cleared your throat, turning towards Crawford. 'Of course.' said man spoke, pushing against the small of your back towards the handsome stranger. 'We won't be long.' 

 

_All through each languorous season_

  _We ebb and flow_  

  _Romance, defying all reason_

  _Will come, then go_

 

 'May I have this dance?' the stranger asked. You smiled softly, nodding as you hooked your arm through his, and he guided you towards the ballroom, where several couples were already dancing on the same tune that Mr Hartley's orchestra had been playing for the last hour. The man put his hand on your waist, the other taking yours, your other palm on his shoulder. His fingers were warm against yours, making you slightly blush. As you caught onto the tune, you began to waltz along, immediately noticing that the handsome stranger had never danced much before.

 

    _Still, perhaps this Autumn_  

  _Love won't retreat in the Autumn_

  _All that we have won't be past_

  _...Won't be past_

 

'So, what is your name?' You dared to ask, smiling sweetly at him. 'Jacob.' he answered, 'what's yours?'  
'(Y/n). A pleasure to meet you.'  
He gave you a charming smile, silent for a few moments.  
'(Y/n). A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.'  
His comment caused you to blush, your eyes momentarily fluttering to your feet. He was wearing rather worn boots, you saw. It made you wonder why.

'What brings you on the Titanic?' you asked him. Jacob smiled a bit. 'I am here to watch over the maharajah.' was his answer.

'This afternoon, he did not have a bodyguard with him.'  
'I was in my suite then.' Jacob said, smiling. 'I still needed to unpack. He gave me permission to do so.'  
'You have your own suite?' you breathed, slightly impressed. Dear God, you wished you had your very own suite instead of having to share one with Crawford. Duleep Singh had to be a very rich man.

  

_Let breezes blow_  

_And turn cold_  

_As we continue growing old_

 

You danced on in silence until Jacob spoke up again, asking you a question in return. 'What about you, miss Astor? What brings you on board of this beauty?' You tried your best not to scoff, letting your gaze glide to Starrick for a second. 'I am to be married in America. Crawford... I mean, Master Starrick insisted, because the General of the Cross happens to be present there at the moment.' Something sad in Jacob's eyes glimmered, but how could you know, for you hadn't known him for such a long time. If you had, you would certainly have noticed how his lips slightly parted, a strained sigh leaving them.

'That's lovely.' Jacob muttered, squeezing your hand. You sucked in a breath, a bit taken aback by how soft his whisper sounded.   
'It's a nightmare...' you unintentionally mumbled, your cheeks turning pink. 'Did I say that out loud?'

Jacob was baffled by your confession, judging by how his brow furrowed. 'How so?'  
'That is none of your business, Mr Jacob.'  
'Just trying to help.' he muttered with a sad smile.

 

  _This Autumn_

  _Love newly found_

  _May yet last_

 

The song came to an end and you bowed towards each other. Jacob smiled kindly, kissing the back of your hand. 'Thank you for this dance, Miss Astor. I shall have to return you to your husband, now.'  
You nodded, surprised by how warm his lips felt against your skin, even though you wore gloves. A tingle went through your fingers, all the way up your arm until it sent a pleasant warmth through the rest of your body, a tinge of red colouring your cheeks.

'Until we meet again.' Jacob spoke as you arrived at Master Starrick, who had already his sixth glass of whiskey in hand and was far from sober. You smiled at the charming brunet, then turning towards the maharajah. 'I hope to speak to you soon.' you greeted, grabbing Crawford's arm to keep him from bumping into a passing couple.

'Are you sure you won't be needing help, miss?'  
You shook your head, Starrick clenching to your arm, trying to keep himself up, his face pressing flush against your shoulder. This was embarrassing, you thought, so you pushed some black hair from his eyes, cupping his cheek for a moment. 'I will be fine.' you said with a wry smile. 'Have a good night, gentlemen.'

After a while, you managed to bring Crawford back to your suite, unlocking it before letting him fall onto the large bed. With some struggle, you managed to get him to drink a glass of water, helping him out of his suit. 'You really shouldn't spend that much time with my father, or you might just end up like him. He is not a great drinking partner.' you whispered, ushering him underneath the covers. 'He is not a great man in general.' you mumbled under your breath, hoping he couldn't hear you.

Quietly, you slipped out of your dress, happy you could freely breathe again, however, as you slipped into the bed and felt Crawford stir next to you, you couldn't help but let your thoughts drift to Mr Jacob and think about how warm his lips had felt.

* * *

 

**APRIL 11TH, 1912 | LOCATION - HENRY'S SUITE| LOCAL TIME - 01:03AM | POV - EVIE**

The moment Jacob and Duleep had returned, the maharajah had been spilling everything he had heard about a certain (Y/n) from a drunken Master Starrick.  
'Like father-in-law, like son-in-law.' Jacob had said, but not with the usual sarcasm in his voice.  
It had confused Evie, her eyes lingering on her brother for a bit longer as Mr Singh continued speaking, Henry noting down everything just fine.

'It turns out it is part of a deal. Mr Astor turns out to be greatly indebted towards the General of the Cross. In order to save his hide, he has sold out his daughter to marry London's Grandmaster to make up for all of it. He has suffered a great blow from the commotion about the age difference between him and his Madeleine. A lot of business deals have been pulled back from him. Of course, with him being the richest man on board, you'd expect him to be able to pay back the General easily. But this isn't about money. This is about honor. The General of the Cross appears to have declared war on his businesses if he didn't give up his older daughter. Did you for example know that (Y/n) has a twin brother? Vincent is his name, currently studying at Harvard. Who knew, that Master Starrick would open up so much about this entire deal when drunk?'

The group was silent for a moment before Evie spoke up to her twin. 

'So, she has a twin, too. What have you learned, brother?' the brunette asked the assassin who was standing leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.   
'I learned that she is far from happy with the man. She doesn't have to be intoxicated to run her mouth, it seems. She turns out to be lovely, really.'

The maharajah smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing as he did. 'That she is. So, she could help us in continuing her mission. And we also know that Astor is in fact not completely a Templar, but is also able to sell his own children if it meant saving his own image. Business these days goes very far. He might hate Starrick, even though we are not sure about that, but he is a terrible man nevertheless.'

'Would it benefit us if we kept him alive or killed him?'

Henry gazed at his notes for a moment. 

'Keep him alive for now. We can deal with him later on, as soon as we have more information on the matter.'

'Right.' Evie said, suppressing a yawn. 'Well, time for bed.' Her dress felt heavier with the second. She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against Henry's lips before giving the maharajah a bow of her head. 'Have a good evening.'

Right as she exited the room, Evie heard her brother ask Henry: 'Say, why do you get to have such a luxurious suite, whilst me and my sister sleep between the rats?'

 


	4. Feelings And Spilled Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines day everyone! Enjoy some budding romance with Jacob in this chapter!

**APRIL 11TH, 1912 | LOCATION - BREAKFAST HALL OF THE THIRD CLASS | LOCAL TIME - 07:10AM | POV - JACOB**

Even though they were traveling in third class with huts as small as one's bathroom, Jacob was surprised when he found out that the breakfast was, despite all the misfortune of having to sleep with four other men in one room, pleasantly appetizing. Perhaps it was because he didn't expect it to be this  _fresh_ and  _all-_ _round_ , perhaps it was because he was in a rather... Well, content mood.

Evie, of course, noticed that her twin was in a very elated state, so she shoved her chair a bit closer, retreating herself from eavesdropping on the conversation between Kate, Kate and Kate, and leaning forward towards her brother, a tooth-rotting smirk on her face. 'Brother-mine,' she began, knowing all too well what caused Jacob to feel this way, something glimmering in her eyes that gave Jacob a most uncomfortable feeling. 'you seem so cheerful about something. Now tell me, did you enjoy your dance with Miss Astor last night?'

Jacob nearly choked on his oatmeal porridge, quickly washing it down with a cup of strongly brewed coffee. 'What ever do you mean, Evie? It was nothing but a way to get some more infor-'  
\- he quit speaking as soon as Evie made a "blah-blah" gesture with her hand, a light laugh escaping her.  
'You can't fool me, Jacob. I know a man in love when I see one.'  
Jacob felt his cheeks heat up. 'I am... Pfff, I am not in love! I've barely spoken to her! Besides, she is the fiancé of that  _monster_ for goodness sake!'  
Evie shushed and leaned in a bit closer. 'Keep your voice down. I get it that you get excited to talk about having a crush on someone-'  
'I do not!' Jacob cried out, causing a few people to look up in both confusion and annoyance.  
Even the Kate's had paused their bickering to see what's going on.

Evie gave him a grin, turning back to her food. 'That's what I thought.' Jacob grunted in dismay and shoved away his half-eaten bowl of porridge, suddenly not so hungry anymore.

Oh, he hated it that his sister knew him so well. He hated it that she was  _right_. Ever since the dance, his mind had not drifted away from (Y/n) Astor for a single second - she was even in his dreams tonight. Jacob himself wouldn't call it "being in love", since who could fall in love in a split second after meeting someone? It would be silly, stupid and unprofessional.

After breakfast, he went back to his hut, looking at the notes Evie had tucked into his pocket this morning. He tried to take in the information, but his thoughts kept wandering.  _Miss Astor had just looked so sad._ He wondered how she would react to find her fiancé dead... 

A rapid knock on the door frame had Jacob startled, his head shooting up from the letters on the page. 'Henry, what a pleasant surprise.' he said with an annoyed undertone, trying to suppress the joy that he was feeling ever since this morning. Henry looked over his shoulder to see if anyone had followed him, quickly entering the cramped space, shutting the door behind him. The men Jacob had to share a hut with were off to work, so they were alone now.

'Jacob, Evie told me that you and Miss Astor had a rather pleasant dance yesterday night?'  
'Oh, are you going to lecture me about it? Because I am not in the mood, Greenie.'  
Henry stepped towards the younger assassin, halting at the end of his bed.  
'No, what I am saying is that we could use that relationship to our advantage.'  
'Are you implying that I should interrogate her or something? Lure her into a trap?'  
  
The Indian man closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'No. But we could get some information out of her. About Crawfords whereabouts, what he does throughout the day, you know. And to get more insight to the Templar world on board of this ship. She might know, being the wife of the Grand Master.'   
'His  _fiancee!'_ Jacob said, a bit too quickly.   
Henry rubbed his chin.  
  
'Yes. I found out that she is in the lounge browsing books this morning today as the men are out discussing business in the smoking room. The maharajah is with them. Evie and I are going to break into some suites to try to find some more information there. Remember that there will be a divine service at eleven-thirty that Miss Astor is permitted to attend. Try to leave her before then, since we wouldn't want to raise suspicion by Starrick. After all, you're still the maharajahs bodyguard and expected to remain professional.'   
  
Jacob stuffed the papers back into his coat. 'OK.' he said, getting up from his bed. 'But with what excuse can I enter the library?'  
'If anyone questions you, Miss Astor included, you're just there to get some books for the maharajah.'  
The assassin nodded, straightening his coat with his hands.   
'You might want to wear the outfit you had yesterday night. This looks like it's about to fall apart.'   
Jacob rolled his eyes, scoffing. 'If it's not Evie, it's you who will comment on my clothing choice. But fine, I will change.'

* * *

 

 **APRIL 11TH, 1912 | LOCATION - THE FIRST CLASS LOUNGE | LOCAL TIME - 09:00AM | POV - YOU**  
  
  
You let your fingers skip through the pages of the book you were currently holding, taking in none of the information that you let your eyes scan upon. Your concentration had as good as abandoned you so you were unable to process anything what was going on today. At breakfast, you were zoning out, causing Crawford to bump into your shoulder a few times because you were asked something. 

'We meet again.' A sudden voice next to you startled you and you yelped, putting your hand on your chest to calm yourself down as you saw that it was none other than Jacob, the very man you couldn't take your mind off since yesterday evening. He had just been so  _mysterious_ and  _handsome_ that you felt your heart thump in your throat by how close he was standing right now.   
'Mr... Ah, forgive me for not knowing your last name. Jacob, I didn't expect to see you here.'   
'Frye. My surname is Frye. And yes, neither did I.' He smiled at you, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks. He was even more handsome in the light of day.

'What brings you here this morning?' he asked. You pointed at the tall bookshelves.   
'Seeing Master Starrick has a smoke at the very moment together with my father, I have decided to get myself some education. I need something to do on board of this ship, don't I?'  
Jacob frowned, since he had been convinced that the first class possessed more than enough accommodations to entertain yourself, than to go to the library.  
'Funny,' he said, 'I was told to retrieve some books for the maharajah.'

He stood behind you, looking over your shoulder. Your throat ran dry as you felt his breath in your neck. 'Tell me, (Y/n), what are you reading?'   
You rubbed your arm. 'At the moment, not so much. Inexplicable causes make that I cannot focus this morning.'  
'Then let me take you for a walk. Some fresh air will do your mind good.' You gazed at the grand clock that was hanging on the wall a little away. The hands pointed at a quarter past nine.  
'I hope that can hold my attention for a while longer than-' you gazed at the book cover for a moment. 'Karl Marx.'   
  
Jacob chuckled, causing your stomach to flutter. 'I am certain, Miss Astor.'   
He held his arm out and you grabbed it after placing the book back on the shelf.   
'You look very good this morning, miss.'   
A blush coloured your cheeks. He wasn't flirting with you, was he?  
  
Since you were on his arm, Jacob had no problem accessing the upper deck, where the morning sun was shining brightly upon the ship already. The metal of Titanic shone in the sun, contouring her beauty, a rich and gorgeous ambiance landing upon the ship as you walked over to the railing, gazing at the waves crashing against the dark steel.   
The ocean seemed unfazed by the presence of such an omnipotent craft. You breathed in deeply, enjoying the warmth of the weather. Even though it was early spring, it felt like a summer morning.  
  
'Mr Frye,' you pondered, 'what will you do in America? Are you going to find wealth, love, or will you return with the maharajah to India one day?'   
Jacob remembered his excuse of being Duleep's bodyguard.   
'Well,' he spoke, 'I am not sure. I haven't thought about it, honestly.'  
You hummed. 'To have such freedom.' you mused softly in the wind.   
  
Jacob frowned, not sure what you meant by that.   
'What do you mean?' You gulped at his question.   
'Nothing. Just that Crawford and I are going to be married there and return to England soon enough. I want to see more of America, but I am sure that Master Starrick will disapprove.'  
  
'He has nothing to say about your dreams, does he now?' You were startled by this comment.   
'Pffft, if that were only true. As soon as I say " _I_ _do"_ to this man, he will have free reign. But I am running my mouth way too much, Jacob. We shouldn't be talking this much.'   
  
A sad gaze fell over Jacobs features. 'You declared the marriage between you and Starrick a nightmare yesterday night. Collaborate on that, if you want?'  
Part of you felt utterly offended by that question, but he was looking at you so warmly that you didn't want anything else than to spill all about it.  
And whatever would Jacob do about it? It was not that he could stop Starrick...  
  
'He is a bad man, Mr Frye. He has every Templar wrapped around his finger and has no good intentions than to rule over all of England. He wants to find a shroud that would promise eternal life.' you spoke. 'Mr Guggenheim, Mr Astor, Mr Ismay. All of them praise my husband-to-be like he is some kind of god. And he feels like it, too!'   
You placed your hands against your temples and rubbed them. 'He is only marrying me because my father is greatly indebted to him and I would look good on his arm!' A scoff left your throat. 'The man's been treating me like his property ever since he knows me!'  
  
Jacob frowned at those confessions, baffled about how you felt and at the same time surprised at how easy you ran your mouth about those things. A pang of agony went through his chest as he saw how truly broken and unhappy you felt, tears brimming on your eyes, about to fall.   
'(Y/n)...' he breathed, putting his hand on the small of your back in a reassuring manner, 'I am so sorry.' You shivered at his touch, despite it not being cold at all. From your handbag, you took a handkerchief, dabbing it underneath your eyes.  
'It's fine.' you whispered, 'it's not like I can stop it anyways.'   
  
The younger twin was feeling the urge to tell it all to you - that they were going to kill Starrick, that you would be free before this journey was over - but he swallowed the words away. His warm hand was still on your lower back, causing you to feel a pleasant tingle through you, dare you confess it, a strange bubbling in your lower stomach that seeped towards the spot between your legs.   
  
You stepped aside, away from his touch, and turned towards the lounge. 'I am talking way too much, Mr Frye. Look at the time, I need to go the divine service as soon as possible!' Jacob looked at his pocket watch - A little after ten - and nodded. 'I will bring you there, then.'  
  
You hooked your hand around his arm, walking towards the lounge again, not expecting to find both Madeleine and Crawford there. 'I was about to fetch her, when I saw her walk away with some lad that looked like a third-class-passenger! They seemed acquainted too! I am not sure where they went, I-'  
You cleared your throat, causing the two to turn to you and Jacob. 'I was just out for a stroll with Mr Frye. Remember him, Crawford? He is the maharajah's bodyguard and we happened to stumble into each other here, we-' 

Crawford put up his hand and silenced you immediately. 'Thank you for informing me about this matter, Mrs Astor. (Y/n), I see that you and...  _Mr Frye_ are getting along very well. However, it's highly inappropriate to just run around with men that have such a status, don't you think?' He spoke Jacob's name as if it was poison on his tongue. The Templar Grandmaster eyed him up and down suspiciously, his gaze landing upon your hand holding onto him. You immediately released Jacob's arm, albeit for his own sake.   
  
'I understand, Crawford.' you whispered, lowering your head. He reached out for you. You obeyed by taking his arm. He tucked you against his side firmly, his hand squeezing your upper arm rather uncomfortably.   
  
'And you, Mr Frye, I expect you to keep a professional distance from my  _wife_.'   
  
Jacob's blood was boiling, but he kept his cool in front of the man they would kill in a few days. 'Of course, sir.'   
With a huff, Crawford turned around, walking out of the lounge with you towards the service you had to attend.   
Briefly, your gaze crossed with Madeleine's, who had a suspicious look in her eyes, with a glint of knowing all-too-well what was going on.


	5. Friends In High Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Note: Changed the name of "church service" to "divine service" in the previous chapter.  
> Changed the time of the service to 10:30 a.m.  
> Changed the location of the service to "saloon"  
> All due to finding a pamphlet online on passenger information.
> 
> Another note, kinda fun: I found an example menu of foods that Titanic offered certain classes. There is even ox tongue on there!

**APRIL 11TH, 1912 | LOCATION - THE FIRST CLASS SALOON | LOCAL TIME - 11:02AM | POV - YOU**  

 

 _God lift me up in mighty waters_  
_Keep my eyes on things above_  
_Righteousness, divine atonement_  
_Peace and everlasting love...  
_

 

The sound of Crawford's baritone voice next to you trembled through your skull as he sang, sending unpleasant chills down your spine. His intimidating and superior nature even seeped through his singing.  _He couldn't be a man of God,_ you pondered.  _And if he claimed to be, God most certainly wouldn't be pleased._

Beside you, you saw a woman with a fairly big hat on top of a brunette updo. There was something familiar to her, but you couldn't put your finger on it. Her voice was angelic to you, and you found yourself admiring the song rather than focusing on singing yourself - until you felt an elbow in your side - Crawford had noticed your mind wandering.

The rest of the service all went in a blur. Around twelve, it was time for lunch. You walked towards the dining room with the crowd, only to be stopped in your tracks by an unfamiliar hand.

'You seem like you could use a friend.'   
You turned to see the woman that was standing next to you earlier. She had kind eyes, you noticed. 'Margaret Brown, but you can call me Molly.' she introduced herself, holding out her hand to shake. Well, that was slightly unorthodox, you pondered, looking over to Starrick for a moment - he was busily talking with some men you hadn't seen before. 

'(Y/n) Astor.' Molly smiled at you warmly.  
'How do you do, Miss Astor?'   
'I am doing fine, thank you Mrs Brown. I hope you are doing well.'   
'Of course, honey. Would you mind if I joined you for lunch this midday?'

You gave her a gentle nod. 'If my fiancé is alright with that, I would like that.'  
A small gesture towards Starrick had Margaret straighten her back. 'Oh that can be arranged, honey. I am sure his interest will be piqued at the mention of my husbands name... Well, ex-husband...' she winked at you and moved towards said man. You heard them chatter a bit, mostly Molly for that matter, and Crawford surprisingly agreed. 'She can certainly go with the other wives for some gossip. Leaves us enough space to discuss some important matters, right Mr Hays?'

With a subtle roll of her eye, Molly smiled at you as she returned to her previous position. 'Men are all talk and no fun, alright?' she whispered as she saw your confused face. A sigh of relief left you. 'Glad I am not the only here that thinks that way.'   
She let out a scoff.   
'Are you married, Mrs Brown?'   
Margaret shook her head, her hat slightly becoming askew from the movement. 'No, I divorced my husband years ago.'   
You hummed. 'I am sorry to hear that.' The two of you walked towards the table where some other high class women were seated.  
'No need. We left on good terms and do still have a great bond.' Molly cleared her throat to grab the attention of the women that were chattering aloud. 

'Ladies, may I introduce you to Miss Astor, soon to be Mrs Starrick.' she gestured towards you, causing you to shyly wave at the dozen of posh gentlewomen, some younger than you, some older. Even Madeleine was among them, causing you to wryly smile at her. A glint of suspicion glimmered in her eye.   
'If that isn't the miraculous Molly Brown.' one of them said with a scoff, and you immediately felt Margaret tense next to you. 

'Please, sit with us.' someone said to you, looking over her shoulder to beckon a steward that could pull the chair back for you. Molly sighed and shook her head, doing it instead.  _Not one of etiquette, I see_ , you thought by yourself. You sat down, sending Margaret a thankful smile and took your napkin, putting it on your lap carefully as one of the garcons told you a few options that made your mouth water - you chose for a roast mutton with a side of pickles and cheese. Crawford wasn't around to correct you in any way and you just longed for some good food.

'So, (Y/n), you are going to marry Crawford Starrick then?' Ida Straus asked you. Alongside Molly, you found her the most sympathetic person around this table. 'Yes.' you said with a soft smile. 'As a matter of fact, we are on our way to wed in New York City now.' Excited mutters came from the other women in your company, except from Madeleine, who just rolled her eyes. 'But she isn't too happy with that, is she? No, I think she would rather spend more time with that Mr... Frye, was it?' she stated with a taunting tone. You almost dropped your fork and frowned at her - the other ladies grew restless by her comment.  
'What on Earth are you talking about, Madeleine? Of course I am happy to marry Master Starrick! And with Mr Frye, the maharajah insisted that he should walk with me for there was no security around. I do however get a slight suspicion that you're a little jealous of me, because I get to marry the Templar Grand Master. I know for one that you think he's quite handsome...'  
If looks could kill, you'd be dead now, for the way your  _as-a-matter-of-factly-stepmother_ looked at you was so vile that you hoped no one saw it.

'Ladies, let us keep it nice around here.' Molly intervened, raising her glass of wine - 'We are all on this marvelous ship, let's not waste our time with childish banter.'  
You nodded, taking your glass as well. 'I agree, Molly. Salut.' With that, you threw back the wine all in one gulp, washing down the mutton.

* * *

 

**APRIL 11TH, 1912 | LOCATION - THE FIRST CLASS SUITES | LOCAL TIME - 12:06PM | POV - EVIE**

  
Evie put her ear against the door, just  _slighty_ moving the small pin until she heard that familiar  _click_. Swiftly, she and Henry slipped inside, shutting the door before reaching for the light switch. She arose, pushing off her hood, looking around the large suite for a few moments before turning to Henry, who had a look of awe on his face.   
'I agree with Jacob.' he breathed, 'That the first class does indeed possess unnecessary space on this ship.'   
'We must not dally on the task, darling,' Evie said softly, moving to the desk of Benjamin Guggenheim. Opening a few drawers, she searched around for any files that could be of importance.   
  
'Do you think we should kill Mr Guggenheim?' Henry asked as he gazed upon a Templar painting that hung upon the wall. Even though it was a few day trip, the elite wasted no time to make themselves at home.    
'We must make no hastily made decisions. All that matters is that Starrick has to be dead before this boat ride is over. I get that it is tempting to slip a sleeping pill or five into his scotch, but suspicion in the last thing we can use right now. No, we better await more information from his fiancee. If Jacob can push her buttons right, she might just sing like a bird.'  
'Seems like we've hit right a jackpot with her, then.'  
'Don't rejoice too soon. We don't know what side she really is on yet. But I am curious to talk to her myself, too. Here, what about this?'   
Evie found a journal with a Templar Cross stitched on the cover. 'I know they are close business partners. Let's take it with us.' She put it into her jacket and closed the drawer. 

Closing everything and leaving it behind the way it was, Evie and Henry stepped into the hallway again. 'That was easier than expected.' The older twin mused, 'So how about you go search the Straus' suite and I will take the Astor one?' Henry was hesitant. 'I am really not one for field work.' Evie sighed - 'Just try it, please. It is way more efficient. Lunch is about to be over, so we must hurry.' 

Greenie gave in, making his way to said room. Evie was quick to find the right spot as well - The chart the maharajah had given her was quite useful to find out where everyone was staying. The lock proved tricky, but she managed to get inside nevertheless. The stench of whisky just wafted her way, causing her to cough. Mr Astor had a serious drinking problem, she figured from the sight of an alcohol drenched rag along a shattered glass - probably a little accident from yesterday night - or this morning...

There was a large safe under the desk, causing the brunette to swear. Even though he had issues, his files were way more secure than Guggenheim's. Putting her ear on the small door, she started twisting the mechanism around to find the combination. Awfully aware that the first class passengers had started to return to their suites for some refreshing by activating her eagle vision, Evie started to grow a bit nervous. She just hoped Henry was noticing it as well, and the third number caused the safe to finally release the lock. Reaching inside, Evie gathered all papers she saw, stuffing them in her pockets before trying to close the safe door - but there was no time to secure it. She ran towards the door, slipping out, kicking it shut behind her. The door of the Straus' suite was still open and Henry was still inside. 'Hurry!' she ushered him with a whisper, the Indian assassin looking shocked at her sudden appearance. Evie could already hear the muttering from the passengers. 'I found nothing!'   
'That's alright, we need to go right now!'   
They shut the door, rushing to run around the corner of the hallway. 'Let's go to the maharajah immediately.' Henry said, a little breathless. 'Through the eye of a needle.'   
  
Making sure no one saw them, the duo went to the room of the Maharajah, where Jacob was already awaiting their arrival. 'And?' 

Evie plopped the files onto the table. 'Here we go, quite the catch.' Jacob whistled through his teeth.  
  
'Speaking of progression,' the younger twin began, uncrossing his arms and leaning them on the desk instead. 'There will be a dancing event on the first class upper decks. A ragtime band will be playing, and the mood should be quite lively.'   
'I suggest that you'll dance once again with Miss Astor, Jacob.' Henry spoke up. Said man was far from unhappy with that proposition.   
'I guess I can.' he said, already moving towards the door. 'Mr Frye.' the maharajah halted him. Jacob looked over his shoulder. 'Yes?'  
  
'Please be careful and keep it modest. Don't touch her in an inappropriate way. There have been... Whispers. And around such a ship, those spread like wildfire.' He nodded, swallowing thickly. 'Alright.' he confirmed, leaving the room to don his fancy wear.


	6. A Welcome Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit short, sorry. I promise the next chapter will be a little longer!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=20rvq3mHpO4
> 
> This is the song used in these last 2 chapters. The intro is the song sang in the previous chapter during the divine service, the rest is the song played during this chapter by Hartley's band.
> 
> Join my discord server! I will post regular updates on my writing on AO3, some ideas I have and more! https://discord.gg/KdAWmrA

**APRIL 11TH, 1912 | LOCATION - THE FIRST CLASS UPPER DECK | LOCAL TIME - 02:54PM| POV - YOU**

  _I love the cool of the breeze!  
_ _Feel the rhythm of the  
_ _Song in your knees.  
_ _Promenading along,  
_ _at your ease,  
_ _Like a feather in the air!_

  
You were thoroughly enjoying the sound of the ragtime band standing a little away from you, men playing their instruments with glee looks on their faces. Absentmindedly, you swung your hips a little to the rhythm, gawking at the dancing couples in awe.  The jolly tunes echoing through the air made you feel at ease, and even though you wished Crawford had the decency to set aside his pride and dance with you a little looser for once (he only danced with you on tunes so slow it was fit for a funeral), you were sincerely enjoying yourself. Starrick scoffed next to you, clearly not amused by the sight of this  _odd_ way of entertainment.

'Don't you at least  _wonder_ if it's fun?' you said, taking a sip of your refreshment. Crawford looked down at you as if it was the stupidest question in the world.   
'This kind of behaviour is not  _fun_ , (Y/n). You of all women should know that.' You frowned - what was that even supposed to mean?   
  
Someone bumped in your shoulder, making you stumble into Starrick rather firmly. Next to you, a nervous looking man had appeared, scanning over the crowd. Crawford put an arm around you, holding you close. 'You there, who do you think you are, daring to touch my fiancee like that?!' You opened your mouth to say it was all-right and you weren't hurt, but the Grand Master had already continued his sentence. 'I am going to make sure that you'll get into trouble for this! You shouldn't touch what is mine, and you most certainly shouldn't hurt it!'  
  
_It?_ _Did Crawford refer to you as an 'it', as if you were an object and not a human being?_ Your stomach clenched uncomfortably and just now you let your gaze cross with the man whose shoulder had hit yours a few moments ago. You didn't recognize him, but he was around your age, clothed in a steward's outfit. 'I am so sorry sir, ma'am, it wasn't my intention to do you any harm.' His hands were shaking as he held them up in an attempt to calm Starrick down. Said man hummed lowly, 'Then you shouldn't do it again, or I will personally get you fired,' and released you. 

 _  
Is that a hint of a chill?  
_ _When you're dancing  
_ _Out of doors  
_ _It's a thrill!  
_ _Keeps you hardy,  
_ _And healthier still  
_ _Take a partner if you d_ _are!_

You dared to lean towards the steward. 'Who are you looking for?'   
He jumped at the sudden voice. 'Ah, nothing of importance, miss. Just making sure that... Have a good day, now.' You noticed a crumpled sheet of paper in his hands. 'What's that?'  
  
'Jones!' Captain Smith appeared behind the young lad, looking at him sternly. 'Have you made the announcement yet?'  
'No, captain, I was about to, capt--'  
Edward Smith grabbed the paper from his gloved hands, hollering a rather severe statement over the deck. 'Mr Hartley, if you would be so kind to stop the music for a moment!' The musician immediately gave the sign to silence the band, everyone that was cheering and laughing falling silent and turning to the captain. 'Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please. I apologize to announce that the rest of this event will be canceled at once. A break-in has happened in the suite of both John Astor and Benjamin Guggenheim and some important files are missing. I must ask you to return to your suites and remain there until further notice!'

You felt your face get pale. 'Who would even do that?' you asked in disbelief. Crawford took your arm. 'Sweetheart, let us just listen to the captain.' Walking over the deck, you looked over your shoulder to the crowd. 'But I want to dance!' Your fiancé rolled his eyes. 'We can't, can we? It was not like we were dancing anyways, so a book would be fun too.'  
He took your back to the suite and sat you down on one of the rich, plush chairs. 'A refreshment for my wife, please.' he told the maid, who nodded and rushed off. For himself, he poured a scotch, added some ice and put one hand in the pocket of his pants as he stood to gaze out of the window, over the open sea.   
'A break-in? Gosh, what a shock... We aren't robbed too, are we?'   
  
Crawford removed the glass from his lips and looked at you with scolding eyes. 'Silly girl. We would've noticed long ago if we were robbed. And those men are stupid enough to not secure their things correctly.' You frowned - Crawford was one to belittle many of his business partners behind closed doors and only to you on his occasional rants, but he rarely referred to someone as  _stupid_. 'No, we are not as daft.'

After a while, the maid returned to you with a cup of tea and you thanked her, nodding in a friendly way to dismiss her. You put in two sugars and stirred it carefully.   
However, a knock on the door had you jump a little and yelp, causing the tea to spill over the edge, staining your dress. You swallowed in the first word that came to mind, replacing it with a rather decent: 'Oh, goodness.'

Crawford went to the door to open it. A man that looked like security stood in the hallway, alongside his colleague. 'Yes?'   
'Mister Starrick, we would like to ask you some questions. It's purely procedure. If you'd be so kind to come along with us, please?'   
Crawford hummed and put his near-empty glass on the dresser, leaving the room without even looking at you. As the door shut with a slam, you let out a sigh.   
Moving to close the blinds so you could change, you looked out of the window, yearning for at least  _one dance_. Slipping out of your dress, you draped it over the back of a chair, going to pick out another.

Closing your eyes, you could almost hear the music again and you smiled, starting to hum it. A little careful, you began dancing a bit, daring to twirl around on the rhythm of the song. You didn't mind that you were in your corset and drawers, it wasn't that anyone could see you anyway.  
  
'Just when I thought you couldn't surprise me anymore.'   
  
You gasped, spinning around quickly to see where the voice was coming from. Suddenly, you bumped into a firm chest, almost falling backwards onto the floor. Before you could hit the ground, you felt an arm slip around your waist, pulling you up. Opening your eyes, which had shut from the impact, you looked into a handsome, smirking face.   
  
'Hello.'

* * *

**APRIL 11TH, 1912 | LOCATION - YOUR SUITE | LOCAL TIME - 03:31 PM| POV - JACOB**

Walking into you like that, Jacob wasn't shy to hold you a little longer. 'Seemed like you were enjoying yourself, Miss Astor.'   
He enjoyed the way your cheeks suddenly dusted in a pink hue, your whole being becoming flustered all of a sudden. He licked his lips, looking your body up and down. 'Am I making you uncomfortable?'  
  
'Mr Frye...!' you blurted, stepping back when you realized you could feel his breath on your face, 'How on Earth... What are you doing here?'  
'The maharajah told me to check up on you, given that Master Starrick has been taken for questioning.' he lied. You bought it. He had been watching you for an hour now, taking in every movement. 

You quickly covered yourself with your hands - 'That you have the indecency to keep watching me, Mr--'  
'Jacob. And yes, I often prefer to keep looking when an exquisite lady such like yourself is standing in front of me, scarcely clothed...' He loved the way your face went beet-red, your lips trembling to say something, but being too baffled to put your thoughts into words.   
'I do apologize, (Y/n),' Jacob began, turning around slowly. 'Just put on a dress and we can talk further.' 

'Do not peek!' you said with a high squeak of your voice.   
'Of course not.' he reassured you with a hint of mischief.  
He listened as you rustled through your clothes, allowing himself to discreetly look over his shoulder to check you out from behind - your back was turned to him, and he chewed on his lip as his eyes took in every inch of your body.  _Oh, you were even more beautiful underneath those high end dresses..._

Before you noticed, he turned himself away again. 'I'm done.' you said, tugging the dress into place. 'Just why were you in your drawers anyways?' Jacob asked with a grin.   
'I spilled tea on the one I had on previously.'  
'Such a shame. It looked so good on you.' You blushed madly. Wait, how had he seen you in  _that_ particular dress? 

 _Wait._ Was he  _flirting_ with you?

'Well, thank you for the compliment, Mr Frye.'   
'Jacob.' he moved to sit on Crawfords chair, bouncing a little on it to check out how soft it was. Then, he draped a leg over the other, eyeing you with much interest. 'What did I hear about an afternoon dance?' Your shoulders moved down. 'It was cancelled.' you answered with a disappointed sigh.

'What a shame.' he said, 'But a mate of mine knows somewhere we can dance, too.'  
'Really? Goodness, I didn't know there was another band hosting an event right now!' 

'It is in the third class common room.' Jacob explained to you. 'There is music, like the ragtime band, but even more lively! There will be people dancing all together, arm-wrestling contests, cheap beer...'   
Your eyes shimmered in awe. What you wouldn't give for an afternoon away from the first class environment...

  
'We could go there?' Jacob suggested, looking at your face light up.   
'Are you serious?' he stood up, holding out his hand to you. 'Yes, I am! Come on!'

He saw you hesitate. 'I am not sure my fiancé would approve.'   
'He isn't here now, is he?' You were clearly struggling with your mind versus your heart right now.   
If Crawford found out, there would be big trouble for you, but on the other hand... This opportunity was one to not pass on.

  
And so, you took his hand. 


	7. Intoxicated

**APRIL 11TH, 1912 | LOCATION - THE THIRD CLASS COMMON ROOM | LOCAL TIME - 04:00 PM| POV - YOU**

  
He dragged you along the halls and you couldn't help but giggle as he halted in his tracks to greet a few second-class passengers on their way to the lounge. His hand was so nice and warm around yours that a tingling sensation went through your entire body. Oh, you had fallen for him.   
As you went deeper and deeper into the ship onto grounds you had never seen before, Jacob threw a look over his shoulder to face you, his pace slightly slowing down.   
'What you are wearing right now might bring confusion to many.' he said, looking at you with a frown. You gazed down at your richly decorated dress - and the remark 'This is my casual gown' that came from your lips had Jacob biting his lip. It still managed to surprise him how rich the elite really were.

'What I am trying to say, don't be alarmed if people stare. And no one dances with you but me - unless I give permission, alright? I don't know a lot of these people, but I know that not all of them do have a lot of life savings - and that pretty necklace you're wearing could cover them for the rest of their lives.' Instinctively, your hand went up to fiddle with the tiny gem Crawford had gifted you.   
'Then I will be careful.'  
'And if someone of them touches you, just tell me.' 

You were silent for a bit as Jacob halted at a large door. He knocked a few times, the door opening after a few moments. 'Ah, Mr Frye. Come in.' a figure said, ushering said man inside. 'Wait, who is that girl?' said person looked you up and down.  
'She is here with me.' Jacob spoke. 'Please, be nice to our guest.'

The room was full of people and you clutched onto Mr Frye's hand for dear life. The stench of beer and sweat wafted your way and you had to hold yourself from covering your mouth. Once you were used to it, you swallowed thickly. Apart from the different behaviour, most people seemed to have great fun, laughing and chatting and a happy feeling came over you.

'Jacob!' a voice through the room sounded and you followed his gaze to the source of the noise. A lady with brown hair standing with her hand raised up. 'Over here.' 

Jacob took your hand and tugged you with him once again. You just let him, silently following him. As you arrived at the female that had demanded your attention, you noticed how beautiful she was, with rosy freckled cheeks and lightly kohl-lined eyes. Her dark hair was tucked into a neat updo.  _She must be the woman he's in love with..._  A jealous pang went through your chest, even though you were not sure why. Oh, of course you knew why. Otherwise, you'd be lying to yourself.   
The woman looked at you with a confused gaze, making you shy away on your spot. Her aura was intimidating, but different than Crawfords, as if she was trying to get out an answer for why you were here.   
'I didn't know you'd bring Miss Astor down here, Jacob. Why?'  
'Something came in between, dear  _sister_.' A wave of relief washed over you. '(Y/n), this is my sister, Evie. Evie, this is Miss (Y/n) Astor, but you know that already.'  
  
'I have caught a few glimpses of her, yes. You are Master Starrick's fiancee, are you not?' you nodded, not sure why she asked. 'But Jacob, that didn't answer my question. Why is she here?'   
'There was a break-in at two first-class suites. Some important files were stolen and Starrick has been taken for questioning. I happened to pass by and who am I to let her sit alone for the rest of the day?' Evie gave him an eye-roll.   
'Are you a bodyguard of the maharajah as well?' you asked her.   
Evie shushed you and lowered her voice to a whisper. 'Sort of. I am more Jacob's bodyguard. Can't have him running off into the blue, can we? Someone needs to look after him, otherwise he will lose track of the maharajah's schedule.' You stifled a laugh and Evie patted her brother roughly on the back. 

The sound of jolly fiddle and flute had you startled. All around you, people started to dance in an upbeat tune, having you automatically swinging along to the song. There was even someone playing the bagpipes! In awe, you stared at the entire scene, people laughing and goofing around the dance-floor, oh, how you--

'-- If I may have a dance once more, love?' Jacob looked at you with his hand held out. You had to keep yourself from gasping in surprise as you saw that he had taken off his heavy dark coat, revealing a white shirt with the collar standing up along with a light green vest. He had added his top hat to the pile and few strands of loose dark brown hair had fallen in front of his face. It took every fiber in your being to not push them back from his face lovingly. Snapping out of your daydream, you took his hand. 'Of course, Mr Frye.' was your response. 'You may.' 

He pulled you to the dance-floor, taking one of your hands in his and resting the other on your shoulder. 'I don't know this dance!' you said, looking just as unsure as Jacob had been when he had danced with you yesterday night. That is was just yesterday you had met him, you couldn't believe. It felt as if you had known him for a life time.   
'Neither do I,' he assured, 'just go with the music, okay?'   
You nodded and let him take the lead.

Feeling yourself begin to laugh, you finally allowed your guard down. It felt as if you were flying, with Jacob chuckling at you when you locked eyes. He was so  _handsome_ and as the speed of the dance started to increase, so did your heartbeat. You twirled around the floor with him, nearly stumbling on your heels as he rested his hand on your lower back, pulling you towards him. To be able to keep up, you kicked the pesky shoes off, choosing to dance on the socks of the pantyhose you were wearing underneath your dress instead. The brunet raised and eyebrow, smirking in a charming way.   
  
'Tell me, Mr Frye. How often do you go to parties like these?'   
Said man laughed as you swayed around. 'Not often, honestly. Only when I have an exquisite woman to keep me company.'   
'Do you have many around?'   
'At the moment just one.' he winked and brought you down in an unexpected dip. You let out a yelp and blushed brightly red. As he brought you back up, he pulled you tighter into him than you were before.  Your cheeks were flushed and you felt your throat run dry. Why was your heart beating in your throat? 'Do you think this is appropriate, Jacob?' you said with a quiver in your voice.  
He showed you a toothy grin as he pressed his forehead to yours.

* * *

 

**APRIL 11TH, 1912 | LOCATION - THE THIRD CLASS COMMON ROOM | LOCAL TIME - 04:30 PM| POV - JACOB**

He really wished he could've kissed you right then and there, but he pushed away the feeling and released you softly. 'Maybe it isn't.' he said. 'All this dancing made me thirsty. Want to grab a drink?'  
Did he see disappointment in your eyes, or was it just wishful thinking?

'Oh, yes please. I am absolutely parched.' He smiled at you as you moved towards the bar - or something that went through for one. For a moment, his eyes lingered over your body, over how your dress hugged your hips and made your butt look like the most delicious-- Ah, he was staring, and you were already looking over your shoulder to check up where he was.  
'Could I have two beers, please?' Jacob asked the man that was handing out drinks.   
'Her, too? She looks like she is used to something more fancy.' There was something of disdain in his voice, and you visibly flinched. Before Jacob could respond with a snarky remark, you spoke up.

'Here, hand them over.' You held your hands out and the man hesitantly put in the glass cups of cheap ale. What he witnessed next - Well, Jacob didn't expect that in the least...

Within a few seconds, you chugged one- two- three- cups of beer (the third one you found on a table and was luke-warm, much to your dismay) without taking time to breath until you finished the last one. Wiping your mouth, you looked at the man with a raised eyebrow. Jacob couldn't believe his eyes and put his hand on your arm. 'What was  _that_?'   
'I never get to drink beer. When I get the chance, I will grab it with both hands.'   
'I think we should sit down, (Y/n).' You didn't listen to the assassin, instead holding out your hands again for the barman putting two other drinks in. Before he could give them to you, however, the brunet twin turned you around and put an arm around your shoulders. 'I think we should sit down for a minute, alright?' 

He had noticed your slight wobble as a minute passed, trying to find a spot to take a seat. The room was full, and in the end he decided it would be best to let you sit against a wall. He put you down carefully, seeing just now that you had another half-empty glass of beer in your hand. 'Where did you get that?!' You took another sip, clearly starting to get tipsy. 'It just makes me sad to see glasses of beers that are abandoned...' you said with a sad sigh. Jacob rolled his eyes and let you finish your drink before sitting down next to you. 'You really get drunk over four beers in three minutes, (Y/n)?' You rubbed your eyes, putting your head against his shoulder.   
'I am not drunk, just... Don't say that. Crawford never lets me drink anything else but one glass of wine.'

He dared to put an arm around you and pulled you a little closer. 'Tell me, Mr Frye...' you hiccuped, turning your head to speak to him. It was probably the alcohol, but you did not jump back when you saw your face was nearly pressing to hiss. 'You really aren't the maharajah's bodyguard, are you?'  
Jacob sighed, pushing you a little away to make sure anyone of you didn't do anything you'd regret in the future - oh, he really had to keep himself from just burying his face into your neck and telling you that all was going to be okay.  
'How did you notice?' he confessed, shaking his head as you reached for another beer being offered to you. You took it anyway, gulping down at least a third of it. Pressing the back of your hand to your mouth, you suppressed a burp.   
'You always show up... Everywhere... What I think is that...' you took another big sip, 'That Crawford has hired you to keep an eye on me... To keep me from wandering and doing whatever I want... But he doesn't want me to know so he acts like an asshole towards you... But that is all he knows... How to belittle others and manipulate everything to his hand...' 

Jacob let out a scoff from this theory. 'Nonsense...' he said softly. 'Do you really think that Master Starrick would let me take you to the third class common room to get drunk over five-' you grabbed another full cup from a tray that was standing close to you. '-Six beers? That would be plain stupid of him if he wants to keep his reputation high, wouldn't it?' 

You heaved a sigh and lulled your head to the side. 'I am not fucking drunk.' Jacob frowned: swearing didn't suit you. It was most plausibly the alcohol talking. 'It's just... Miserable...' Your face scrunched up and you suddenly started to cry. Jacob shushed you, pulling you into a hug, which was quite difficult judging by how you were both sitting on the floor. 'I don't want to marry him...' you wailed. 'He makes everything so terrible for me... My entire life is his property right now... Oh, Mr Frye, I just want to flee, to run away from this... This disgrace of a life. And the Templars... Oh, they're terrible men, Mr Frye, you must know that. They know nothing but how to lie and manipulate and enslave... Crawford is the main example of that...' Your tears stained his shirt, but he didn't mind. He just rubbed your back soothingly.   
'Listen, Miss Astor, I completely believe you. And I can assure you that all will be alright, but I will tell all of it once you've sobered up. I am convinced that you are in fact not a Templar or share their beliefs. I will bring you to your hut now, alright? Tomorrow, I will find you, explain all, and I will kiss you, if that's okay with you?' 

He felt your cheeks heat up, even redder than they already were. You nodded, taking in the final sip of beer. He helped you up, catching you as you threatened to fall. 

* * *

 

**APRIL 11TH, 1912 | LOCATION - THE STARRICK SUITE | LOCAL TIME - 05:20PM| POV - CRAWFORD**

After being away for a long time, going through severe questioning resulting in his indisputable innocence, the last thing Crawford Starrick was expecting was to come home to an empty suite. Seeing your dress draped over a chair made the worst scenarios fill his mind. He searched the suite - the bed and the bathroom, but he found nothing but air. 

'Where is my wife?' he demanded one of the maids, but she shook her head in fear. Crawford was an intimidating man and towered above her at least a foot. 'I... I don't know, sir!'   
'You surely must've seen her leave.' he urged, pulling out a fifty dollar bill from his inner pocket. 'Even though she told you to not say anything, but this will get you to speak.'   
'I really don't know, sir!' The maid said, even though her gaze lingered longingly on the money - it was at least a month salary of work right there in front of her face. 

'We can try a more painful method of getting you to speak, girl.' he grumbled, gesturing for two Templars beside him to grab her. 'With every sentence I say, one of my men will punch you in the gut until you talk. Sounds fair, alright?'   
Tears started to leak down her face, 'Please sir, I really don't know!'   
Crawford was not convinced. 'She left with that Mr Frye, did she not?' The girl belched, threatening to throw up as her fragile body hunched over in pain as one of the Templars threw a punch in her belly. 'Talk!' She pressed her lips tightly together, snot and tears dribbling down her chin. She didn't say a word. 

'Question her! Where is my wife, damn it! Where is she?!'

 


End file.
